


The Woman Who Sold Her World

by Cycian



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cycian/pseuds/Cycian
Summary: As you bring your girlfriend Satya Vaswani, your girlfriend, you catch her with another man.





	The Woman Who Sold Her World

You decided to surprise Satya, you thought it was a great idea, she had been staying late at work lately, you supposed she had earned for some well-earned rest.  
You had brought dinner, her favourite, from an Indian restaurant on the other side of the city, yet you didn’t mind all this time spent in your car, you knew Satya would love and appreciate the effort.   
Your girlfriend’s office was on the last floor, but the elevator ride seemed quite short, as you were imagining your love’s surprise and joy at the sight of both her favourite meal and her lover. You scratched your chin, you were clean shaven, and wore a shirt.   
You smiled at your reflection in the elevator’s mirror, grinning cockily at yourself.  
“Looking good, handsome.” You winked at yourself. You were in a particularly giddy mood, which was a more frequent occurrence ever since Satya came into your life and changed it for the better.   
The door opened, you stepped out and were greeted by the secretary.  
“Here to see Miss Vaswani, I presume?” She smiled with a knowing look.  
“I am. Good evening Michelle.”  
“I fear your lady is currently busy, an influent client from Oasis had a particular project he needed help with.” The secretary gestured towards the architect’s office.  
You nodded thoughtfully, Satya’s influence and reputation were growing fast, to your pride. She was always so humble, and was not nearly as proud of her progress as one would’ve been.   
“Well, mind if I wait here a bit?” You knew she would never mind, the younger girl had quite the crush on you, unbeknownst to Satya.   
“Of course not! I was about to take a break anyways.” She grabbed her pack of cigarettes, and headed for the balcony. You were trying to stop smoking, so when she offered you a cigarette, you just smiled and pointed at your vape.   
“Satya really changed you, uh?” She giggled.  
You were about to object, but you realized that dressed with a shirt and a vest, clean shaven, with a new haircut, you were in no position to claim the contrary.   
“I still remember the first day you came here. With your old leather jacket, thick beard, sunglasses...” She trailed off, and you nodded, remembering that time. Lord, were you lost, working as a thug for Vishkar. Satya showed you the wrong of their ways, and with a little time and a lot of love, you were a changed man.   
“Not that you look any less handsome now.” She added, and even in the dim light of the office beyond the glass doors, you could see her blushing.   
You chuckled, and stroke a pose, before the two of you burst out laughing.  
Once her smoking break was over, you headed inside.   
“Wow, I wonder what’s taking them so long?” Wondered Michelle, like an echo to your own thoughts.   
You were about to answer that perhaps Satya’s presence was so delightful that the mysterious client couldn’t force himself to leave.   
But a loud moan interrupted you.   
You knew that voice, you knew that noise, you had elicited it from your lover’s lips enough times to know it, to love and cherish it.   
Michelle looked at you, you didn’t even feel her hand on your bicep, as you stormed in the room.  
You thought perhaps he had been hurting her, but you knew Satya’s moans of pleasure and pain enough to know the difference.   
You stopped dead in your tracks. Satya Vaswani, the love of your life, her legs around a stranger’s hips, his pants around his ankles, and you could see her panties on the desk.   
The way she looked at you, this mixture of surprise and fear, it ignited pure wrath within you.   
The plastic bag hanging around your wrist dropped to the ground, you clenched your jaw, and the man turned at you with a frown.  
“Can’t you see we’re busy?!”   
Satya got off the desk and off this fucker’s dick, and walked towards you, pleading.  
“My love, I can explain, wait!”   
“What the fuck is there to explain!” You snarled, feeling the familiar warmth of boiling blood in your veins. You rolled up your sleeves, while the man fumbled with his trousers.   
You pushed her out the way, she collapsed in the chair, her eyes wide with fear. Never had you ever treated her with the slightest bit of anger. The man stepped back, terror in his eyes.   
You yanked him by the collar, and hit him in his fucking hideous mouth. He would’ve fallen to the ground, had you not been holding him in a death grip.  
You hit him again, you heard his nose breaking.   
“You bloody, hideous fat ass motherfucker!” You roared, throwing him on the desk, the computers and lamps crashing to the ground, as you climbed on it, on top of him, as you smashed your head against the wood, until a spot around his head was covered in red.   
Satya and Michelle tried to hold you back, but you wouldn’t have any of it.   
You kept going, kept punching. To the guts, to the throat, to the head, rinse and repeat, as your mentor once told you. He had been out for a while, yet you kept on massacring the bastard who had the audacity to fuck your girlfriend.  
“I’m going to end you, get it?” You looked at his hand. A ring on it. An alliance.   
“Oh, now that’s just rich.” You snarled, yanking the ring from his finger. You forced open his mouth, and made him swallow it.   
You laid back, admiring your work. Probably didn’t have much teeth left, his nose was broken in two different places, stuck in an odd angle, and you heard a few ribs break.   
You hopped off the desk. And you thought, that this was where Sat- this bitch cheated on you.   
Hitting women was not your thing. You wouldn’t stoop that low. But you had to take that anger out somehow, eh? You grabbed his leg, and pulled it towards his knee, hearing the bones break was intensely satisfying.   
The pain woke him up, he screamed in agony.   
“You think that I was the only one? Terry sent me here, he was sent by someone whom was sent by someone else!”   
Your head snapped to look at the mess of a man, who had trouble speaking, and would probably forever struggle, since you had broken his jaw.   
“How does it feel to be in love with a whore!?” He yelled, and that was it.   
You lost it.  
You grabbed him by the collar, and threw him against the French window. You kicked him in the dick, once, twice, thrice, with all the strength you could muster. You heard the window crack, a few tears appeared on the glass.   
Satya stepped between you and the beaten-up man.   
“Enough, that’s enough, please, no more violence!” She cried, and tears streaming down her cheeks.  
“How could you!? How could you, you fucking monster, you slut!” You screamed, your throat dry and raspy.   
“I am sorry, so, so sorry, my love, please, but you must underst-”  
“Understand what? Understand that you cheated on me, of course I should’ve expected it, what would a woman like you want from a street rat like me, Vaswani!?”   
“I needed money, I needed power, it was for the greater good! I beg you to listen to me!” She sobbed, as you turned heels, ignoring Michelle’s terrified look.   
You grabbed the bag of food, opened the Tupperware, and throwing its content on her.  
“Now you look as filthy on the outside as you do on the inside, you whore!” You spat in her direction, before leaving. She ran after you, but you slammed the door shut, perhaps it had landed on her, perhaps not. Who cared?   
You didn’t bother with the elevator, and used the stairs inside.   
You ran to your car, and drove to your shared apartment.   
As soon as you were inside, you grabbed a chair, and started destroying everything you could. You smashed the TV, her computer, broke the windows. You grabbed your old knife, and tore the curtains, the couch, the bed. You slammed open the door to the dressing room, and grabbed all of her stuff, and yours as well. Your nice shirts, your blazers, everything she had bought you. The man she had made out of you was naught but a lie, a lovely façade, to a most disgusting being within. You carried the clothes to the balcony ..  
You grabbed your lighter fluids, you rarely used them, since you stopped smoking. You grabbed an old pack of cigs you had in your backpack, you grabbed one, and your trusty lighter.   
You covered the pile of clothes in lighter fluids, you lit up your cigarette, and finally lit up the piece of atrocities she called clothes. You looked down at your blood-soaked clothes, and took them off, throwing them in the fire, with your vape.  
“Do I look like a fucking hipster, ya snake?” You groaned.   
You went back to your backpack. Inside was the clothes you had back when you had moved in. The rugged jeans felt good against your skin. You put them on with delight, your old tee-shirt, with a few old blood stains here and there, and your trusty leather jacket.   
You walked to the living room, putting on your favourite Nirvana album in the record player.   
Who even owned a record player now? You thought, as the familiar notes of ‘The Man Who Sold The World’ started playing.   
As you went into the kitchen, you felt a pang of pain in your heart. You had spent many hours here with Satya, talking, drinking tea or coffee, cooking. You went in the fridge, and groaned.  
“There’s not a drop of alcohol in this hellhole…” You cursed, before grabbing your backpack, a handful of cash you shoved in your pockets, before leaving, the door still open. If anybody wanted to steal anything, that wasn’t your problem anymore.   
You then heard the familiar sound of high heels and panting in the stairs. Satya. You quickly hid around the corner, hoping that she wouldn’t notice you. You didn’t want to get noticed nor followed. She ran into the apartment, screaming your name, her voice shaking.   
You quietly left, and once in your car, you drove as fast as possible to the park. You left the rest of your belongings in the car, cash included.   
You saw a few men standing near a bonfire, under the small bridge over the artificial pond. You eagerly joined them.  
“’Sup Joe.” You greeted your old friend with a slap on the back. Even though they were glad to have you finally back, they were concerned about what happened, but they knew better than to ask too any questions.   
You fell asleep among a choir of snores, under the stars.   
You didn’t even notice when the tears started coming, but once you realised you were crying, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.   
When you woke up, you felt groggy, and the wounds and tears on your hands hurt.   
A familiar voice called behind you.  
“It’s been a long time, (y/n).” Desdemona. Of course, it had to be her. You slowly got up, your back still sore from sleeping on the ground.   
“Got a job for me?” You didn’t want to bother with useless questions.   
“Obviously.”   
And that’s how you fell back into your old habits of drinking, fighting. Anything to clear your mind off this demoness. You gained a few new scars, but left a lot more of these in your wake. You changed your name, moved back to the slums. Yet, something still felt awfully wrong.   
You felt like you still needed vengeance. You considered burning down her flat, but you didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention from the cops, that’s the last thing you needed.   
And that is why you found yourself in front of the building where Satya worked. Desdemona reluctantly told you that Satya still worked there. Never had the elevator ride seemed so long. It was midday, which meant that Vaswani was probably somewhere eating dicks for lunch. You chuckled at your own joke, cracking your neck. You looked at your reflection in the mirror.  
You gained a new scar across your cheek, but only the end of it was visible, the other one buried beneath your beard. Your hair was back to its usual length and dishevelment. You pulled out a cigarette from your pack, and flipped off the ‘no smoking’ sign.   
The door swished open, and you revelled at Michelle’s surprised expression.  
“Been a long time, ain’t it?” You grinned, as her mouth fell open in disbelief.  
“(y/n)! It’s been so long, we were so worried, Sat-” You interrupted her by raising your hand.  
“Not a word ‘bout her, alright? Anyways, time for a smoking break.”   
“Looks like you’ve got a head start.” She shook her head, grabbing her pack, heading for the balcony. You caught by the arm.  
“We can smoke in here, it’s pretty chilly.” You huffed a cloud of smoke.  
“But the rules-”  
“Screw the rules.” You lit up her cigarette, and pulled her towards you.   
Her body was pressed tightly against yours.  
“You know, the only thing I missed in this hellhole’s you, darling.” You winked, and had to refrain from laughing at how red she turned.   
She mockingly hit your chest, but her hand stayed there.  
“You know, I was thinking that screwing the rules isn’t nearly as fun as screwing a beautiful woman. Feel the same?” You grinned, your lips inches from hers.   
She closed the gap with impatience, pulling her body even closer against yours, and soon, she had her legs on your shoulders, as you mercilessly pounded into her.   
You looked at the clock on Michelle’s desk. Anytime now.   
The door opened to Satya, who was looking at something on her tablet, earphones on.   
You decided to up your game, and reached further, grabbing the secretary , and pummelling into her, eliciting actual screams from the young blond. Satya looked up, her eyes wide. When she recognised you, you saw her expression switch from surprised to shocked, then sad.   
She screamed something in Hindi, and you waved her hello. She darted to her office, the door slamming shut.  
That broke the mood for Michelle, didn’t matter to you, wasn’t the first round for you, and certainly not for her.  
“Shit, shit, shit!” Panicked Michelle, gathering her clothes. You put your pants back on, and knocked on Satya’s door.  
“Happy birthday, love!”   
You heard her sobbing through the door, and left with a smile on your face, while Michelle tried desperately to open Satya’s door, blubbering about being sorry.   
A few months later, your contract bore Satya’s name. She was your target. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the last few months had proven hard for you. Despite being used to this life, it was starting to take its toll on you, but despite all that you had done in the past, the most painful wound was what you had done to Satya.   
You knew it had been well-deserved, but still, you did not feel like killing her, even with everything she had done to you, she had spent too many night awake soothing you from nightmares. You had shared too much of yourself with this woman to just end her life like this.   
Breaking in was not hard, you smiled at the sight of the old couch, she probably spent endless hours or money on getting it back to its former glory. You had brought wine, and a gun. Work was work, after all.   
You poured two glasses, and drank both of them.   
The familiar sound of her keys turning in lock woke you up from your internal reflections.   
She entered, and stopped.  
“Hi.” You grinned. She closed the door, her eyes full of disbelief.   
“You… You are back?”   
You nodded, inviting her to sit on the couch. She sat down, she just couldn’t believe it.   
“We got some stuff to talk about, don’t we?”   
She swallowed, hard, and poured herself a glass before drinking it all in one go.  
“I’m sorry, I did not want you finding out like this. Nor did I want things to go this far. I was in over my head. I was not aware of what I was about to put myself through. I was not aware of what I was about to put you through.” She explained, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.  
“Why, Satya, what we had was not enough?” You gestured to the living room, impeccable as always.   
“I thought we needed more. I wanted the best for us, for all. More power meant more influence against Vishkar, I thought… I thought that my self-esteem was a small price to pay.”   
“What about /us/, was it such a small price to pay?” You felt a pang of pain through your heart.   
“I am sorry… I didn’t think it through enough, I used to do it before, back when I was with Vishkar. It was normal there, expected of me even. I did not want to hurt you, my love.” She looked at you with such pained eyes, such devotion and hurt.   
“Don’t call me ‘love’, you’ve lost that right the moment you opened your legs to someone else.” You whispered, before pouring yourself another glass, even though nothing could ever soothe the bundle of guilt and hurt stuck in your throat.   
She looked away. You pulled your gun from its holster, hidden under your jacket, and put it on the coffee table.  
“You know what they asked.”   
She remained silent.  
“Now, let me ask you a question.”   
Satya perked up, attentive.  
“I’ve checked in with a few of my contacts, and I was wondering why you put a contract over your own head.” You felt her twitch in her seat.  
“Would you believe me that I only wanted to see you again? To talk? We never had that occasion ever since…” She trailed off.   
“Since I found out that you had been sleeping around for power and influence in my back? Yeah, wasn’t really feeling like talking back then.”   
“Do you still love me?” She bluntly asked.   
You raised your eyebrows, surprised, before laughing.  
“After all you’ve done to me, girl? You’re serious?” You asked between a few chuckles.   
She grabbed your hand, and put in on your gun, before leading the end of the revolver against her forehead.  
“Prove it.”   
You had forgotten how brave Satya could be.   
“I won’t shoot you, you know it.”   
She closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. You felt tempted to swipe it away, but it was what she wanted.   
And that is when you also remembered how intelligent this woman was. Giving in and killing her was what she wanted, in the end. Giving up was the proof that you still cared for her.  
Whatever you did, she was going to win.   
You took a deep breath, your finger on the trigger.   
Long strolls on the beach, how beautiful she looked in her dresses before you went for your weekly restaurant date. How marvellous were her eyes when she laughed. How passionate, and lovely was this woman you had once called yours. How pleasant was the smell of freshly cooked dinner when you came home.  
Home. You had almost forgotten that word. To have something to call yours, to have a place or someone to call home, someone you could depend on.   
You couldn’t do this to her. You couldn’t do this to yourself.   
You put the gun down, you had not even realised that your hands were shaking. Her eyes were still closed, but she let go of the gun without resistance. You got up. And remembered this novel she had been reading you, when you couldn’t sleep.  
It was a French tragicomedy, written by Corneille. Le Cid.   
“I shall go, for I have no hatred for you.”   
You remembered the exact quote, in french. ‘Va, je ne te hais point.” Go, I do not hate you. Act IV. How delightful had it been to hear Satya speaking french, translating the play as she read it. You got up, but not before laying a chaste kiss upon her cheek. Before leaving. 

On the ride back to your apartment, you wondered if Satya got the meaning behind your words.   
Of course she did. She spent all night thinking about it. She knew what it meant. In the play’s context, it was a hidden declaration of love, an act of forgiveness. Satya also knew that it meant that you would come, that the two of you would spend hours mending your wounds, your broken hearts.   
You did not hate her. You loved her. And like Chimène forgave Rodrigue for the murder of her father, you forgave her for the murder of your trust, of who you had once been. 

And as another French writer had once said:   
“He who wants a rose must respect her thorn.”   
-André Gide.


End file.
